


A Nightmare Come True

by teacup_pup



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Bondage, M/M, Monster Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Non-Consensual, Rape, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 12:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11828919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacup_pup/pseuds/teacup_pup
Summary: Hanzo is captured and Reaper has to resort to more creative methods to get the information he wants out of the silent archer.





	A Nightmare Come True

“My patience is wearing thin,” growled a dark voice from the most shadowy corner of the room.

 

The man bound intricately in the middle of the room winced, flinching away from the voice behind him, before cursing at himself and straightening up as well as he could. He was kneeling on the ground, bound by ropes across his calves anchored into the floor, and his arms were tied behind his back. The rope was surprisingly soft, not liable to leave marks unless he struggled too much, and he was not a man to visibly struggle unless he knew he could get free. He was thankful for his prosthetic legs at a time like this, knowing that if he had the opportunity to suddenly jump up and escape, he wouldn't have to worry about his legs giving out under him after being stuck kneeling for so long.

 

“You will tell me where the bombs are planted willingly, or I will have to resort to more persuasive methods than simply asking. You have two more minutes to answer.”

 

The words sent a chill down his spine. Hanzo desperately wanted to look over his shoulder and try to find the source of the voice, but he stayed resolutely still, not wanting to seem weak in any way in front of his captor. He had been trained to deal with kidnapping and torturing situations and some of the training sessions almost felt real, but he always knew they weren't. Now, there wasn't anyone coming for him. Nobody knew where he was. Yes, he was a man of battle, he had admirable self-control, he knew how to handle himself in almost any situation, but he still felt uneasy here. He wouldn't break, no matter what, but he dreaded the torture he knew he had to endure before his captor realized he'd never give up the information.

 

An impatient growl emanated from behind him, sounding closer this time, but he resisted the urge to flinch away and curl in on himself. He stared straight ahead and didn't acknowledge the sound. The bombs were all fakes, intended to simply deter any would-be attackers as his team escorted a very important person from Point A to Point B, or so he was told. Being the sniper of their group, he didn't need to know all the intricate details. He simply had to stay up on the rooftops and watch for any suspicious activity, picking off Talon thugs from a distance before they became a problem. But being so far away from his team meant nobody could easily get to him if he encountered direct trouble, which is how he found himself in his current situation- bound to the floor in a dark, cold warehouse with an unknown captor swiftly growing impatient behind him.

 

“Time’s up, Shimada. Anything you want to say?”

 

Hanzo remained quiet, slowly flexing his arms against the ropes again to test their give. They weren't tight enough to hurt, but they weren't about to come undone on their own anytime soon despite any tugging or wiggling he could try to do. Heavy footsteps approaching him from behind made him go still again and he slowed his breathing so he could try to hear more about the person behind him. There was the soft swish of cloth like the person was wearing a cloak or long skirt, a faint clinking of metal that he couldn't figure out, and a strange lack of breathing. Unless the person was wearing a mask that covered their breathing, they weren't breathing at all. This made him more uneasy than anything else.

 

The footsteps stopped right behind him, and Hanzo could vaguely sense the presence of another, but not as much as he should've been able to, especially since he knew someone was there. The muscle in his shoulders twitched with his barely-contained urge to turn around and see who it was. A low scoff sounded behind him, and he figured whoever it was saw this reaction. He braced himself for a swift kick, for a punch, for some violent action, but all that happened was gentle. The person tugged the gold ribbon out of his hair, tossing it in front of him as his long black hair draped across his back. He scowled at the length of gold silk lying just a foot away from him, feeling offended that the fabric untied so easily.

 

A moment of tense waiting led to sharp, cold claws scratching across his exposed shoulder, just barely light enough to not draw blood but firmly enough to leave long red lines. Hanzo bit his tongue to hold back a demand for the person to remove what he assumed to be their hand, hating the marks the claws were leaving. Another hand reached up to scratch at his clothed shoulder, claws snagging in the fabric of his top and slowly dragging the shoulder down. Hanzo flicked his eyes over to watch the cloth slide down his shoulder, but was still unable to see the claws without turning his head.

 

“You get another chance to answer every time I remove an article of clothing. If you haven't said anything by the time you're naked, you're going to be in a lot of trouble.”

 

The voice got deeper with every word until it was a low growl just behind his ear. Apparently the person had bent down. Hanzo shivered faintly at the evil promise, the  _ threat _ . A dark laugh from behind him told him his captor noticed the small movement. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to mentally remove himself from the situation, putting all his willpower into staying still and ignoring the cold claws dragging across his flushed skin. Another sound of impatience grated at his ears as the claws dug in and ripped his top, scratching down his right arm and dragging the torn fabric with them. Unable to help himself, Hanzo huffed out a sharp breath of annoyance. Small drops of blood rolled down his arm, leaving itchy red trails in their wake that he longed to scratch. 

 

He could feel the person getting angry as the claws bit more deeply into him, dragging along his ribs just to further shred his top and mark his skin. Breathing was audible now from them, low breaths that sounded like growls every time they exhaled. He felt a vague sense of fear towards this person, not knowing anything about them except how cold and sharp they were, unlike anyone he had ever met. The captor seemed to tear apart his top just for the hell of it, ripping it into long shreds and small pieces that fluttered to the ground around him, pressing his claws more firmly than necessary just to draw blood.

 

“Your outfit doesn't have many pieces,  _ boy _ ,” the voice murmured in his ear again, sneering the last word. “You’re already running out of time.”

 

Hanzo kept his eyes and mouth closed, breathing steadily through his nose as he ignored his captor. There was nothing this person could do to him that would make him give up any secrets, no matter how small they were. He wasn't sure how important this person or delivery really was, but he wasn't going to risk the operation by saying anything. He couldn't feel his communicator in his ear and wasn't sure when it fell out, so there was no way to tell what location got pinged back to the group last. He could only hope it was a location near here so they could find him, if they had the time and resources to spare.

 

His captor pulled the last remnants of his tattered top away before tugging at the waistband of his pants. At first, they just ran their claws along his waist above his pants, not even trying to scratch or draw blood. Hanzo opened his eyes and looked down, breath hitching when the claws circled around in front of him and he caught sight of the grey metal and black cloth that covered their hands and continued up their arms. The claws looked just as imposing as they felt. They paused when his breath hitched, pressing against his skin before slowly circling his waist again, tracing new red lines all around his waist with blood welling up in a few spots.

 

“Don’t tell me you like this, Shimada. A noble warrior such as yourself enjoying being marked up by the enemy?”

 

The tone was derisive and teasing, making a dark blush flare up on his cheeks. He was thankful for his captor staying behind him so they wouldn't notice his reaction. However, he couldn't deny that the scratching wasn't particularly...unappreciated. He wasn't looking forward to having to carry around the marks of this for all to see for who knows how long if he got away, when he got away, but he almost liked receiving the marks. He wasn't a gentle man. Sure, he appreciated a hug or quiet night like anyone else, but that wasn't his preference. And he was getting embarrassingly into this current treatment. He could stay quiet and think about post-mission paperwork all he wanted, but his body had other ideas as the claws hooked into his pants and tugged until the cloth started to rip.

 

Despite how much he mentally warred with himself, fighting to not show any sign of enjoyment, Hanzo’s skin prickled as the claws ripped his pants away. He was struggling to keep his breathing neutral and controlled, still fighting to keep up his unaffected front. As his pants were torn away from his hips, the claws scratching down his thighs as the captor leaned forward, he hunched over slightly in attempt to keep his lap hidden for as long as possible. He was beginning to grow hard just from the smell of blood and the rough treatment, and the only thing hiding that was the tight confines of his pants- pants which were slowly being torn apart. The claws reached as far as the could with the person’s current position behind him, pausing halfway down his thighs, but he still didn't feel anyone press against him. Hanzo started to wonder if this person even had a body. But how would that be possible?

 

Just as he thought that, the claws disappeared. Truly disappeared. They vanished in a puff of black smoke, making Hanzo gasp softly in surprised confusion. Where did they go? How could they do that? Before he could think about the answer, a swirl of black smoke rose in front of him and slowly formed into a tall, foreboding man. He stood in a black cape with the hood up, shadowing a bone-white mask. Metal and black fabric completely covered his body, obscuring any features Hanzo could've tried to remember and relayed back to the team once he got free. The cloak blurred away into a haze of black along the bottom, and Hanzo could just barely make out some writhing, shifting forms behind the man. What was he?

 

“Look at me,” the man commanded, his rough voice underlined with anger, frustration.

 

Hanzo’s eyes slowly traveled up from the man’s metal-plated boots, to his thick thighs that made him swallow nervously, to the ammo belts strapped across his wide chest, and finally to the ghostly mask angled down at him. He had heard of this man, but only in whispers, and he never thought he'd find himself facing this creature down, especially not on his own. This man was known for the destruction he caused, the trail of bodies he left in his wake wherever he went. Would Hanzo be his next victim?

 

“I'd hate to harm such a pretty face, but…” The man paused as he crouched down in front of Hanzo, reaching out to drag a claw slowly across his cheek before digging in, leaving a line of red along his cheekbone. “If you don't cooperate, I won't have a choice.”

 

He hardly sounded remorseful, and Hanzo couldn't help the scowl that marred his face. He would never bow to the will of a terrorist, whether his information was important or not. This was a matter of honor now, maybe even of personal pride. He stayed resolutely silent still, just glaring at the mask that stared impassively back at him. His silence prompted the man to make a thoughtful hum, head tilting as he scratched an identical line across his other cheekbone. Hanzo bit his tongue to hold back a sound he wasn't sure would be annoyed or pleased, but couldn't help the darker blush that surfaced, embarrassed by his own confusion. He should not be enjoying this in the slightest. This man was a wanted criminal, an international terrorist, a very very dangerous creature. He was the Reaper, he did not play nicely, but all Hanzo wanted to do was play with him. Why?

 

“You can stay silent all you want, but your body tells me another story. Whether you tell me what I want to know or not, I'm still going to have my fun with you. It'll just be easier on you if you give me the information first.”

 

Hanzo's glare remained, stoutly unwilling to tell him anything at all. He would remain silent through this entire ordeal, tamping down even the slightest of sounds. Reaper growled again at his silence and swiped the claws of both hands across Hanzo’s thighs, shredding his pants and leaving deep slashes in their wake. He inhaled sharply at the sudden stinging pain, his kneeling position making more blood seep out and soak into his ruined pants. Reaper chuckled darkly and dragged his claws down Hanzo's thighs going the opposite direction, pulling the scraps of his pants along as he created a criss-cross pattern of deep scratches all along his thighs. Hanzo clenched his jaw and almost swallowed his tongue in attempt to hold back his sounds of pain. Running away was quickly becoming less of an option since his prosthetics only started at his knees. His thighs would be as torn up as his clothes at the end of this.

 

Hanzo choked on a groan when his shredded pants were tugged away completely, his whole body jerking with the force of the pull. He was sure his damned arousal was plainly clear to Reaper now, he had no other way to hide it, his underwear did nothing to conceal it. He sucked in a sharp breath and his eyes went wide as a claw lightly traced along the obvious hard line on his lap, his hands clenching into fists behind him. Reaper kept up the motion, the  _ teasing _ , until Hanzo’s cock twitched against the sharp metal. He was furious at himself for enjoying this at all and not having better self-control, for being so obviously into it. A dark chuckle sounded in front of him as the claws finally stopped their caressing and hooked into the final waistband.

 

“Last chance, Shimada. You sure you don't want to say anything? Even in defense of yourself?”

 

The teasing tone was stronger this time, making Hanzo blush dark with humiliation. He hated himself for reacting like this, but couldn't bring himself to hate the situation. He just kept his eyes cast down and his mouth pressed into a straight line, not giving any response except for the ones he couldn't control. Reaper’s hands crept around to his hips, scratching lightly at the final piece of cloth that covered Hanzo. He clenched his jaw to bite back his embarrassed whine when Reaper slashed the clothing away with a swift flick of his wrists before pulling the scrap away, finally leaving Hanzo completely naked and exposed.

 

“Well, well. You  _ are _ enjoying this.”

 

He sounded smug as he repeated his previous teasing action, this time lightly scratching across his bare cock, which was standing proud-  _ embarrassingly  _ interested in Reaper’s attention- and occasionally twitching back to hit his stomach. Hanzo couldn't help the low whine that escaped, the twitch of his hips, the blush that spread up to his ears and down his chest. He could feel Reaper staring at his face from behind his mask but kept his head down, unable to look up and face his captor, unable to look away from those dangerous, beautiful claws scratching at his sensitive skin. Another shiver ran across his skin and his cock twitched against the claws again, making them poke into it with more force than he expected. He gasped softly and Reaper laughed, sounding more mocking than ever.

 

“I bet you could get off just on this, couldn't you? A mighty warrior like you reduced to a shivering mess just with a few claws.”

 

Humiliation surged through Hanzo’s body but it did nothing to lessen his arousal. If anything, the words only excited him further. He wanted so badly to give in, to agree with what Reaper had been saying. He got so exhausted remaining stoic through everything, sometimes he just wanted to let go and feed his dark, hidden desires. This man was catering to him just like he longed for someone to, but he couldn't give in like this. This wasn't the situation he had imagined so many nights, alone in his room and letting his control slip just a little as he dreamed about it. He wanted this with a lover, with someone he could trust, not with a wanted terrorist. But that just added to the allure of the whole situation, didn't it?

 

The claws disappeared for just a moment until a hand wrapped around him, feeling just as cold but a little gentler since his palm wasn't sharp. Reaper’s mask continued to stare at him as the hand slowly pumped Hanzo’s cock, making sure it was at peak hardness and impossible to hide. The bound archer hunched his shoulders, trying to curl in on himself as best as he could being tied up as he was. The shame of the situation was starting to get to him, making his whole body burn with embarrassment. His wounds stung, the blood was starting to dry and make his skin tacky. He wanted to hide from the world, from Reaper, but his body still had other ideas. His hips tried to shimmy closer to Reaper’s hand, he was leaking pre-cum all over the black fabric, and the cold grip made him shiver with...excitement? No, it couldn't be  _ excitement _ . That would mean admitting to himself that he wanted this.

 

As if reading his mind, Reaper tightened his grip but stopped his movements. He squeezed until Hanzo gasped in pain and tried to wiggle away from his grip, though he didn't make much progress since the ropes across his calves still held him firmly in place. He was so tempted to open his mouth finally, to ask Reaper to stop, to yell at him, to cry out in pain or pleasure or both. But he couldn't yet. He wasn't broken. He didn't intend to be broken by this man, either. He'd stay silent.

 

“You sure about that?”

 

Reaper seemed to be questioning his thoughts directly. Hanzo huffed softly and finally turned his head away. The movement made his hair fall around his face in a dark curtain, obscuring his expression from his captor. He gave in, ever so slightly, and let his face contort with the pained pleasure that was twisting up his insides, before schooling his expression back to something as neutral as he could manage. A clawed hand reached out to push his hair away, tucking some behind his ear and draping the rest back over his shoulder. The claws then slowly dragged from his ear, along his jaw, to grab his chin and yank his head over to face Reaper again.

 

“Do not look away from me again,” he growled out, voice somehow even lower than before.

 

Hanzo swallowed thickly at the command but didn't look away, eyes a little wider than usual as he stared at the mask. He found himself wondering what was under the mask, and knew he'd be reaching for it if his hands weren't bound. A sharp prick on his cock made him wince and hiss in pain, his eyes flicking down in attempt to see what Reaper did now, but he didn't dare move his head. He couldn't see well since Reaper had his head tilted up, but he felt repeated pointed jabs all along his cock, making him bite his lip again to hold back any sounds. They would sound pained, yes, but he knew Reaper would be able to pick up the pleasured undertones.

 

Hanzo had outstanding stamina on the battlefield- able to outlast nearly any opponent. He could train for hours without a break, he could handle month-long missions without complains. But his sexual stamina was a different story; he almost always came embarrassingly early despite his best attempts to hold back. Even if he was focusing purely on his partner, their sounds and expressions and smell always pushed him over the edge. He was sensitive all over, and Reaper’s rough treatment was getting him dangerously close to orgasm already. His begrudging pleasure was quickly overcoming the pain radiating steadily from his many wounds and even without being able to look down at his lap, he knew he was leaking pre-cum all over Reaper’s hand.

 

“What's getting to you most? The ropes, the claws, the teasing? What really gets you going?”

 

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed at the mask in a weak glare. He wouldn't respond, wouldn't admit that it was a terrifying combination of all three. He knew he got worked-up easily, but Reaper had him ready to come faster than ever. A devious twist of Reaper’s hand had Hanzo gasping loudly as his eyes widened, his arms straining against the ropes and shoulders heaving as he tried to breathe deeply and hold back his orgasm. He was sure if the mask was off, he'd see Reaper smirking at him, knowing he had almost complete control over Hanzo's body now. But his mind still fought against it, he still refused to let himself give in and enjoy this.

 

Just as Hanzo thought he had pulled himself away from the edge, a new sensation almost threw him right over. He gasped again and went rigid against his bindings as a strange almost wet tickling sensation lapped across the sensitive tip of his cock like a tongue. But it couldn't have been a tongue, and it couldn't have been a hand, because he felt all five fingers of one hand wrapped around him and Reaper’s other hand still held his jaw so he couldn't look away from the unnerving mask. He couldn't help but squirm in place, the strange feeling bringing him right back to the brink of orgasm. His whole face was flushed dark red, and he was sure the color spread down across his chest just as dark by now. He was straining with such an effort to keep from coming, but he was slipping. And Reaper knew it.

 

The strange not-tongue dipped into his slit and wiggled around, making Hanzo's hips copy the motion as he wiggled under it. He couldn't keep still anymore, and his carefully measured breathing was becoming ragged. Would Reaper actually let him come, or would he pull away at the last moment? He wasn't sure which he preferred.

 

“You're going to come for me, Shimada, and then I'm going to break you.”

 

The words, the tone, the tightened grip, the wet lapping; all combined to finally push Hanzo over the edge. His body seized up as he came, his eyes widening again as he gasped in pleasure, unable to form words. If he could speak, he'd probably be thanking Reaper for letting him come. He felt his face screw up in pleasure, his expression finally cracking and showing his captor how much he really enjoyed his current predicament as he coated his stomach and Reaper’s hand with white. As his orgasm began to subside and his body relaxed, Hanzo found himself writhing again, bucking as well as he could into Reaper’s still-firm grip. His mouth opened again, ready to plead for Reaper to let go, he was too sensitive now and couldn't take any more, but something pushed into his mouth before he could get a word out.

 

Hanzo recoiled away as well as he could, leaning back as far as he could manage without falling, trying to get away from the strange appendage. But it followed, pushing into the back of his throat and making him gag before retreating just a little and resting heavily on his tongue. He went cross-eyed as he looked down at it, trembling in fear at the smoking, shifting  _ thing _ that looked suspiciously like a tentacle.

 

“That one was free. If you want to come again, you'll have to tell me about the bombs or beg. Though I look forward to hearing both.”

 

Reaper sounded amused, and Hanzo immediately felt angry. Now that his mind was cleared, he wanted to get away again. He couldn't handle any more humiliation at the hands of this creature. Keeping his eyes on the mask, Hanzo bit down as hard as he could on the tentacle in his mouth. It tasted how burned metal smelled and he wanted to turn away and spit it out of his mouth, but he couldn't yet. Reaper hissed and quickly tugged the tentacle out of his mouth, letting it dissipate in a cloud of smoke. Hanzo felt victorious for all of a second before Reaper’s hand on his jaw moved down to wrap around his neck, squeezing against his throat and making it hard for him to breathe. He kept his eyes trained on the mask, able to hold up a neutral expression again, and didn't consciously react to the low, threatening growl that emanated from behind the mask.

 

However, his cock twitched in interest again from its place nestled sticky and small again against his thigh. He mentally cursed himself for somehow still wanting more so soon, but was helpless as Reaper’s grip on his throat tightened and his dick grew, slapping against the sticky mess on his stomach with every twitch. He felt lightheaded from the lack of air and the blood loss, his clear mental state quickly becoming clouded with delirium and lust. Reaper must've seen the shift in his expression from neutral to placated, how his eyes drooped and shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. His cum burned the scratches on his stomach but the sensation only made his head more fuzzy. He liked the feeling. The initial burning was already fading and he craved more.

 

What felt like another tentacle curled around his cock and he could feel it pulsing around him, like it followed the beat of Reaper’s heart. Hanzo couldn't help but try to buck up into it's grip, the strange smoky, undulating texture of it starting to drive him mad. If he was of a more sound state of mind, he'd be appalled at how quickly he fell under Reaper’s control, how quickly he gave in to his lust. He was trained better than this. Maybe not for situations exactly like this, but for torture in general. He could handle almost anything from bullet wounds to electric shocks and everything in between. He was made of sterner stuff than this. Or so he thought. In what felt like no time, he was practically a slave to his physical desires, and rapidly feeling less shameful about it.

 

The hand wrapped around his neck shifted so the thumb could press against his throat, the tip of the claw digging into the soft skin. Reaper’s other hand reappeared and rested on his head, grabbing a handful of his hair. Hanzo looked at him with soft, almost pleading eyes, his hips still working away under the twirling tentacle wrapped around him. He looked like he was silently begging for more. For now, Reaper would indulge him.

 

Reaper stood, pulling his hand away from Hanzo's neck with a parting scratch that left a long red line along his throat. Hanzo shuddered and watched him stand, now very attentive. His eyes finally drifted down from the mask when he heard a clink of metal and low hum of fabric rubbing against fabric as Reaper undid his pants. Try as he might to keep still, some small part of his rational mind still trying to pull him back to his normal self, Hanzo couldn't help but wiggle in excitement as Reaper pulled his cock out. It was a washed-out grey with purple blooming across the tip, and while it didn't look like anything Hanzo had seen before, his mouth still watered at the sight.

 

“Since you aren't fond of talking, I'm going to put your mouth to good use. If you think of anything to say,” he paused and Hanzo felt another tentacle curl around his arms and prod at the ropes for a moment until a knot came undone and they fell away, “just push me away and talk. But if you push me away and don't talk, you're getting tied up even tighter. Got it?”

 

The hand in Hanzo's hair tightened it's grip so he could barely nod, but he tried. He still didn't want to talk, but for different reasons now. If he talked, it would take longer to get that delicious looking cock in his mouth. He wanted to lean forward and get his mouth on it, but Reaper’s hand in his hair kept him in place. He had enough decency still to keep from whining, to keep from begging, but he looked back up at the mask with a pleading expression. Hanzo licked his lips slowly, trying to seem tantalizing without any words and with limited movement. Though his hands were free now, he didn't want to move his arms, and he knew Reaper would swat his hands away as soon as he tried to reach for him. Instead, he balled his hands into fists on his thighs and let his tongue loll out of his mouth while keeping it mostly closed. His mind may have been muddled with lust, but he still couldn't bring himself to hold his mouth open in invitation.

 

Hanzo didn't need to beg for this though, because Reaper just growled lowly at his inviting tongue and leaned forward to press his tip against Hanzo's surprisingly soft lips. Hanzo flicked his tongue out to lick across it, his eyes flicking up to Reaper’s mask and wishing it wasn't in the way so he could see his expressions. Since he couldn't, he cast his eyes down again and kept them on the strange, beautiful cock in front of him. It was the largest he had ever seen, strangely shaped but not disfigured, just different. Along with the odd color, it was, in every sense of the word, monstrous. He didn't open his mouth for it, intimidated by the size, and simply lapped at it with little licks. Reaper quickly grew impatient again with the tentative attention and tilted Hanzo's head back with the hand tangled in his hair. Hanzo could feel his eyes boring into him, the intense gaze feeling hot and heavy.

 

“I know you can do better than that. Open your mouth.”

 

Reaper’s commanding tone made Hanzo shudder before obediently opening his mouth. His eyes still cast down, he watched as Reaper pushed into his waiting mouth, faintly surprised that he was moving so slowly. He quickly had to resort to breathing through his nose as his mouth was filled with cock, but there was much more still to go. Hanzo wiggled anxiously, scratching lightly at the lacerations on his thighs and using the resulting pain to pull his attention away from how hard it was getting to breathe. When he had maybe half of Reaper’s thick length in his mouth, it already nudged against the back of his throat. Hanzo closed his eyes and breathed slowly, struggling to keep himself calm so he wouldn't choke too easily. He had sucked dick before but never anything this big. He was way out of his comfort zone here, not that he was ever comfortable to begin with.

 

Hanzo vaguely figured that the sooner he could make Reaper come, the sooner his mouth would be free. With that thought driving his actions, he wiggled his tongue along the underside of Reaper’s cock as well as he could with it filling his mouth so completely and finally reached up to wrap his hands around the other half that might not be able to fit in his mouth. He figured he was doing something right when he felt a twitch in his mouth and heard a low groan above him, so he hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head as well as he could with Reaper's restricting grip in his hair.

 

“Hm, are you enjoying this too? Who knew what an eager slut you are?”

 

Hanzo flicked his eyes up to the mask again and glared, pressing his teeth against the cock in his mouth in a warning that he'd bite if he was provoked. Reaper growled lowly and pressed his claws against Hanzo's head in a warning of his own. Hanzo shuddered lightly at the reminder of his claws and eased off, playing nicely instead. As much as he wanted to get some sort of revenge for all the cuts and humiliation he had endured, he didn't want to anger Reaper any more than necessary. Being stuck in place like he was, he'd have no way to defend himself from any attack.

 

Or any probing tentacles. 

 

Hanzo gasped as well as he could with his mouth full when he felt another tentacle slide around behind him and rub against his ass. The writhing, shifting form rubbed against his skin, not probing anywhere. At least, not yet. Hanzo made the mistake of letting it take up most of his attention, so he wasn't prepared for Reaper to grab his head with both hands and push him farther down his cock, making it poke into his throat and causing Hanzo to gag around it. But despite his desperate sounds and how forcefully he hit against Reaper’s thighs in attempt to get him to back away, he stayed buried in Hanzo’s mouth. As the archer squirmed in place and squeezed his eyes shut to help him focus on his breathing, he missed the air around him go dark with black mist as more tentacles reached out to wrap around his body.

 

The tentacle wrapped around Hanzo's cock kept up it's pace while one wrapped around his abdomen and rubbed roughly against the cuts there, two tugged his hands away from Reaper’s cock and pinned them to his sides, one curled loosely around his throat like a threat, and the one by his ass finally slid between his cheeks to poke at his hole. Hanzo jerked in shock when they all tightened around him, making it nearly impossible to move at all. Reaper almost leisurely rolled his hips to fuck slowly into Hanzo's mouth as the tentacle behind him rubbed more forcefully against his dry hole. He was nervous, almost scared, that it would try pushing in without any preparation.

 

Unable to move and unable to speak, all Hanzo could do was kneel there and take it as the appendage pushed inside. Again, it went more slowly than expected, but that wasn't the only surprise. The slide in was smooth. The tentacle wasn't too wide, and it felt almost spongy as it squeezed into him, shifting around inside his hole and burrowing deeper. It felt endless as it wiggled into him, stretching him slowly but surely. A new fierce blush bloomed across his entire upper body as he realized it was almost pleasurable. The push was steady, and while it didn't feel lubricated or wet at all, the constantly shifting and regenerating form helped ease the invasion. 

 

With his eyes still shut, Hanzo didn't see Reaper tilt his head down to look at him, mask impassive as always but the intense gaze behind it burned into Hanzo. He slowly opened his eyes to look up at the mask, almost a perfect picture of defeat. His face was flushed dark, his hair was a mess tangled around Reaper’s tight grip, drool was dripping out of his mouth, and he couldn't even open his eyes completely. Reaper let out a low chuckle and untangled one of his hands from Hanzo's hair to pat his cheek.

 

“Look at you, finally being a good boy. But still not good enough.”

 

Reaper took a step back, pulling his cock out of Hanzo's mouth. Hanzo gasped again, fully this time, and greedily inhaled the fresh air. His eyes cleared up a little and he was able to look up at Reaper with most of his previous disinterested expression despite the dark blush and writhing tentacle buried in his ass that made him bite his lip to hold back any sounds.

 

“Do you have anything to say yet?”

 

Reaper’s voice was still deep and menacing and infuriatingly  _ smooth _ , like he wasn't affected by anything Hanzo had done. Angry again, Hanzo tried his best to pull against the constricting tentacles, wiggling in their grasp in a poor attempt to get free. All he managed to do was squirm against the tentacle in his ass and clench down around it, drawing a low groan from Reaper. The sound made him pause, and he wished once again that the mask was gone so he could gauge the wraith’s reactions. Since the tentacles were technically part of him, could he feel Hanzo move around?

 

Wanting to test this new idea, Hanzo kept up his defiant expression but wiggled with a purpose back against the tentacle buried in him, clenching around it teasingly. Reaper let out another choked sound, confirming his suspicion. But before Hanzo could use it to his advantage, he felt the tip of another tentacle poke against his stretched rim. He froze and his eyes went wide as it slowly pushed in beside the one already deep within him. He couldn't be sure if it was thicker or slimmer than the first one, he was too overwhelmed with the burning stretching sensation. The foamy texture of the tentacles wasn't helping this time, his body wholly unprepared to take much more without ratcheting up the pain he was already starting to feel. This kind of pain was much different from the pleasing scrape of claws across his skin, it was harsh and grated against his insides with no remorse.

 

“Don't try to play games with me,” Reaper warned, sounding angrier than before. “I will win every time.”

 

Reaper yanked his other hand out of Hanzo's tangled hair, pulling a few strands out that fluttered to the floor in front of him. Hanzo desperately wanted to say something, to snap at Reaper about his disrespect, to beg for the tentacles to disappear, to plead for more claws instead. But he knew that would only feed into Reaper’s ego, so he stayed silent. The wraith floated around behind Hanzo, not bothering with walking anymore since the entire space around the two was covered with his black mist, allowing him to hover easily. Hanzo tensed, almost shying away from the man. He wasn't one to scare easily, but he knew he had no control of this situation at all, and it was all unnerving. He felt claws run down his back and heard a quiet ruffle of fabric before cold, smooth metal pressed against the back of his head.

 

“You better hope you got my cock wet enough, because your spit is all the lube you're getting.”

 

Reaper’s threatening tone was right next to Hanzo’s ear, making him quickly flinch away. Reaper just laughed lowly as another tentacle reached up to wrap around Hanzo's head and over his mouth, effectively gagging him. The appendage around his neck tightened as well, making it hard for him to breathe. He wiggled anxiously, scared of what was to come, his heart racing as he braced himself for Reaper's assault. The two tentacles already in him didn't move, staying buried deeper inside him than anything had ever reached, and he was sure Reaper's cock would push just as deep.

 

Hanzo had to summon every ounce of his willpower to keep from crying out in pain as Reaper pushed into him. Right away, he felt far thicker than either of the tentacles, and Hanzo knew he only got wider. Tears picked at Hanzo's eyes as further invaded, the pace blessedly slow but not stopping. He found himself breathing heavily through his nose with his entire body rigid in the tentacles’ tight hold by the time he finally felt Reaper press against his back. He felt sick, far too full for any sort of comfort, and everything from his waist down was numb except for a dull throbbing warmth on his lap.  Was he  _ still hard _ through all this abuse? Was some hidden part of him more depraved than he thought possible?

 

As if hearing his thoughts again, the tentacle wrapped around his cock squeezed and he let out a shocked groan, muffled by the tentacle still over his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as well as he could, refusing to believe that he was still enjoying this somehow. He thought he was only being clouded by pain, but now he could feel the low current of pleasure running beneath every flare of discomfort or pain Reaper caused him. 

 

Reaper adjusted his position behind Hanzo, pressing closer and resting his hands on Hanzo's hips. He felt the claws,  _ those wonderful claws _ , press into his skin again, seeking out unmarred patches before sinking in. Hanzo gasped sharply at the initial pain then let out a choked sob when he felt his cock twitch and a new wave of heat wash over him as the pleasure quickly followed. How could he still be enjoying this? How could he be wishing Reaper would move now, or at least make the tentacles in him shift around again? He shouldn't be hoping for more abuse, for more pleasure.

 

“If you want me to do anything more, you're going to have to ask. I'm enjoying your ass very much like this, but I can tell you're already feeling frustrated. All you have to do is ask me.”

 

Reaper’s voice was low now, almost crooning, like he was trying to coax the words from Hanzo. Hanzo didn't doubt that Reaper could find his pleasure as he was, not moving much beyond making the tentacles snug next to his cock wrap around him and jack him off into Hanzo's ass. The thought was equal parts embarrassing and arousing. Hanzo almost wanted him to do that, to feel the tentacles writhe in him not for his pleasure, but for his captor’s, to use him as just another warm place to get off before leaving him alone and unsatisfied. Hanzo moaned softly at the thought and let his head tilt back against the mask behind him as the tentacle around his head moved away to free his mouth.

 

He wanted to beg. He wanted to plead for Reaper to fuck him, to stretch him out with cock and tentacles until he couldn't think straight, until he was more gone than ever before. But he just couldn't. This wasn't even about mission information anymore, he didn't care about the bombs. To him, Hanzo was another conquest that he needed to own through any means necessary. 

 

But the means were getting very hard to ignore, and Hanzo faintly worried that he wouldn't be able to hold out until his team found him or Reaper got bored of his silence, and the wraith was getting better at forcing sounds out of him. Who knew how long it would be until he was able to force words out of Hanzo as well? He shuddered at the thought, brushing against the strong, cold chest behind him. Why was Reaper pressed so close now? Was this another intimidation tactic? The claws, intimidating on their own, dug into his hips and pulled him back until his ass was firmly pressed against Reaper's pelvis and he could feel the man grind against him. The action along with the heavy breathing coming from behind the mask made Hanzo blush darker than ever, realizing he was finally having some sort of effect on him. The rush of smug pride and excitement that washed through Hanzo made him finally crack and say something.

 

“Are you sure you are the one in control?”

 

His voice was rough from how hard he had been straining to keep quiet, and his words were more wobbly than he would've liked, but he got his point across. Reaper responded with growling laughter that grated against Hanzo's ears as he slowly pulled out until just an inch was left in Hanzo before slamming back in and seating himself fully in one rough thrust. Hanzo couldn't help the cry he let out, sounding surprised yet pleasurable. His facade was quickly breaking down now since Reaper gave him a taste of what he could be having if he just  _ asked for it _ . His pride often got in the way of his pleasure, and usually that was a good thing. Especially now. But he might not be able to keep it up much longer.

 

“You, in no way, have the upper hand here. I don't suggest testing my patience any further.”

 

Reaper tightened his grip on Hanzo's hips, claws piercing his skin and making rivulets of blood drip down his hips and onto the floor. Hanzo didn't want to look down even though he could now, he was sure the floor was covered in a red puddle at this point. But the pain and blood just urged him to push Reaper as far as he could. He was losing his grip on his sanity now, overwhelmed by the pain, pleasure, smell of blood, lack of control. This was such a wildly new situation, he was quickly losing himself again and he wasn't sure he'd be able to come back this time.

 

“I don't think you’ve been trying very hard,” Hanzo taunted. His voice was wobbly still but that didn't matter anymore. “A better terrorist would've been able to get some information at this point.”

 

Hanzo knew it was a dig at his own skills, but he wanted to make Reaper mad now. And it worked beautifully. With the deepest growl Hanzo had heard yet, the tentacles wrapped around him tightened, completely restricting all movement and making it nearly impossible for him to breathe. He felt the claws pull out of his right hip and wrap around his neck instead, digging into his throat again. His head was tugged back sharply, making Hanzo hiss in discomfort.

 

“You haven't told me anything because there is nothing to say. Isn't that right? You're being difficult just for the hell of it now, and I can't have that.”

 

Hanzo swallowed thickly, wondering distantly how he figured it out. He didn't think he gave anything away but couldn't be sure about anything anymore. The lack of air and stunted bloodflow was getting to him, making his vision fuzzy and dark around the edges.

 

Just as he thought he was going to pass out, the hand around his neck disappeared and the tentacles around his chest relaxed slightly. Hanzo sucked in a sharp breath and immediately felt dizzy, but it was quickly punched out of his lungs again as the tentacles he had almost forgotten about buried deep in his ass started writhing around again. He couldn't help the cry of surprise, very obviously tinged with pleasure, or the embarrassed whimper that followed as Reaper laughed victoriously.

 

“I knew it,” he said smugly, right in Hanzo's ear, the cold mask pressing against the side of his face. 

 

Hanzo’s head was still tilted back with a hand tangled in his hair and he felt the claws pressing against his scalp. He almost wanted Reaper to scratch him here too, he wanted to be marked up all over, even if it would make washing his hair hell for awhile. _Especially_ because of that. Another wave of embarrassment washed over him at the thought, but it wasn't as strong as before. So what if he gave in? There was no harm if nobody else knew. He'd get rescued then live the rest of his life in control, never slipping up again. He just wanted to _taste_ _it, just once_.

 

Some movement behind him brought Hanzo's attention back to the present, to where he was dangerously close to giving in. Reaper shifted behind him, his grip tightening, before he started pulling out, his cock and tentacles sliding out of Hanzo's very stretched hole. He choked on a groan, trembling in the tentacles’ hold at the burning, dragging sensation. Reaper may have been moving slowly but that didn't help the lack of lube, nothing could. Before he was even completely pulled out, tears were pricking at Hanzo's eyes again and though he was loathe to let them fall, he wasn't sure if he could help it. 

 

Reaper stopped with just his tip still snug inside Hanzo and the tentacles completely out, letting his poor hole relax a little bit. But Reaper's cock was still larger than anything he had ever taken and it would hurt to be fucked dry by something much smaller too. He grit his teeth as he tensed, fear starting to creep into him. He could handle being fucked by the enemy and his strange tentacles if he had to, but there was something particularly cruel about doing it without any preparation. For the first time since Reaper touched him, he actually hoped his love of pain would make this pleasurable.

 

Hanzo opened his eyes quickly when he felt a gentle licking sensation against his cheek and looked down as well as he could to see a slender tentacle lapping at his face. He realized he let a few tears escape, and the tentacle was soaking them up, following the salty trail up to his eye. Hanzo flinched away but it didn't try to hurt him, to his surprise.

 

“I'm not going to hurt you unless you want me to,” Reaper murmured behind him, sounding almost sensual with his voice deeper than ever but still somehow so smooth. “But only if you beg for it.”

 

With the reminder that Hanzo would have to beg for release since Reaper knew any information about the bombs was useless now, he slowly pushed back into Hanzo, ignoring his pained whimpers and not caring about the intense burning radiating through his lower body. Reaper kept up his slow pace for a long while, long enough for the burning pain to slowly fade to dull pleasure, assisted by the tentacle wrapped around Hanzo's cock and the two more that appeared to prod and lap at his perky nipples.

 

By this time, Hanzo was panting quickly and squirming as much as he could against the tentacles. He was mentally scrambled again, and there was no bringing him back this time until Reaper was through with him. He was distantly surprised that he was enjoying this pain too, nervous excitement skittering along his nerves and making him moan softly as he got into it. There was very little shame left in him about the ordeal now and if the tentacles weren't keeping him mostly in place, he'd be rocking back against Reaper's slow thrusts, silently begging him to move faster.

 

Hanzo couldn't ask for it yet; he couldn't let any sounds beyond the occasional moan or whimper past his shiny, bitten-red lips. He wasn't desperate enough yet. But Reaper was trying his damndest to make him so.

 

He had wriggling black mist covering almost his entire body at this point, prodding into the deeper cuts and tickling his skin. Every now and then, Hanzo swore he felt a claw press a new mark into him, making sure none of his skin was left unmarred. He'd be scabbed over and bruised for weeks at this rate, but he loved it. He absolutely reveled in being scratched up so much, so thoroughly marked. It was a long-lasting fantasy if his to be claimed like this, and he thought it such a shame now that nobody would appreciate it like he did.

 

Hanzo let out a low, pleased sound when Reaper picked up his pace just a little, almost properly fucking into him now. He was still a little too slow for Hanzo's liking, but he didn't want to beg yet. He wanted to make Reaper force the words out of him. The wraith had to work harder if he wanted Hanzo to beg, had to use his tentacles in a more creative way than encasing him in a cocoon of gentle pleasure. Hanzo wanted the claws back, the growled threats, the hand at his throat cutting off his air. Did Reaper not pick up on that yet? Or was he purposefully not giving that to him because he knew that's what Hanzo wanted, because he wanted to hear him beg? Hanzo let out a high, frustrated whine at his own frantic thoughts and Reaper's slow pace

 

Just as Hanzo was finally opening his mouth to demand rougher treatment again, he felt the tip of the tentacle wrapped around his cock poke around the tip as if searching for something. He gasped softly when the tentacle ran through his slit, soaking up the generous amount of pre-cum he had been leaking for awhile now. It swiped through the sticky mess a few times, getting more slick than the tentacles at his ass ever were, and poked with slow but consistent pressure at the little hole. Hanzo shuddered and bit back a groan as the thin tentacle slithered into his cock as the strangest sound he had ever seen.

 

“No need to hold back your sounds, Shimada. They're just as important to earning your permission to come as your begging is.”

 

Reaper sounded darkly amused, like he was smirking behind his mask. The thin tentacle stopped but pulsed with the same beat as all the others, making his cock throb beautifully. He felt a strange sense of fullness that made him moan again, louder this time, less shy. He couldn't help but cant his hips forward into the grip of the tentacle that was still wrapped around him, administering the strangest sensations he had ever felt. He loved the feeling immediately.

 

Paired with Reaper's slowly increasing thrusts and the claws making a reappearance across his chest and shoulders, sometimes pinching at his nipples, Hanzo was right on the brink of another orgasm. His moans and whines came more freely now, his eyes closed and head tilted back against Reaper's shoulder as he gave himself to the pleasure coursing through him now. He was warm all over despite how cold Reaper and his tentacles were, sweaty and bloody and sticky. He was a damn mess, and he wasn't even getting properly fucked yet.

 

“P-ple…” Hanzo whispered out part of a plea, but couldn't get himself to say it all.

 

“Please, what?” Reaper sounded gentle again, like he was speaking to a child, trying to coax Hanzo's pleas out of him.

 

Hanzo just let out a high whimper and shivered as the thin tentacle in his cock slid a little further in. It was getting immensely difficult for him to form words now.

 

“I… I need…” 

 

Hanzo was panting between words now, almost breathless at the pleasure coursing through him. He was helpless to it all, head tilted back against Reaper’s shoulder, eyes closed and mouth open as he soaked in all of Reaper’s attention. 

 

“Just say the words and you'll get it.”

 

Hanzo’s head rolled as he tried to think, to clear his mind enough to form words. He wanted to beg Reaper to let him come, he wanted to please his captor. Coming without permission wouldn't be as satisfying at this point, and he wanted to wring as much pleasure out of this as he could. He needed to.

 

“Please, please…” Hanzo was whispering, voice hoarse and wavering. If he wasn't tilted back against Reaper like this, he might not have been able to hear him. 

 

A particularly rough thrust from Reaper punched the most pleading, drawn-out sound from Hanzo that he had ever heard from anyone. He growled lowly in response, his claws and tentacles tightening their hold on Hanzo. Reaper was nearing his own end as well, deeply enjoying the sounds he had been able to drag out of the archer and reveling in his tight yet pliant body. He was sure that if he made all the tentacles and ropes disappear, Hanzo would try to fuck back against him, begging for more with his body instead of his words. Maybe he should try that next time.

 

Hanzo strained against the constricting tentacles, which were tightening even further around him as Reaper got close to his end. He wiggled as much as he could in their hold, finding it hard to breathe again but loving the attention around his cock. The thin sound tentacle was writhing, the one wrapped around him was rhythmically tightening and relaxing. His eyes rolled back into his head as his body went rigid, pleasure overwhelming him completely.

 

“Come on, baby boy, you know the words,” Reaper rumbled in his ear, deep voice finally sounding strained. 

 

The words washed over Hanzo and made his slack mouth curl up in a smile. A few hours ago, he would've been thoroughly humiliated. But now…

 

“ _ Please-! Fuck- _ ” Hanzo let out a loud, unabashed moan when he felt sharp teeth dig into his shoulder. “ _ Please, daddy, please let me come!” _

 

Hanzo didn't realize he was speaking in his native tongue, he was too far gone, drowning in pain and pleasure. Reaper groaned deeply against Hanzo's shoulder where his teeth were sunk in, his mask pushed up out of the way. He wasn't completely sure what the archer was saying, but he could pick up on a few key words and the pleading tone and knew he was begging beautifully. Spurred on by his plea, Reaper finally began fucking into him with abandon, the loud sounds of skin slapping skin, heavy, fast breaths, and drawn-out moans quickly filling the misty air.

 

“Yeah, that's it, come for daddy…”

 

Reaper sounded pleased beyond words and let out a low, growling groan, his tentacles writhing spasmodically around Hanzo as he lost control over his physical form. The archer, meanwhile, was almost crying with the intensity of what he was feeling. With a choked sob of absolute pleasure, he went rigid in Reaper’s hold then relaxed and let out a cry that bled into a long moan as he finally came. He trembled with the intensity of it, tears rolling down his face as he made sound after sound of pure pleasure, tinged only a little by pain. It hurt to feel so good, and he loved it. The sound tentacle was blessedly gone, but the one wrapped around his cock kept working to keep his orgasm going.

 

The wraith behind him sunk his teeth into his other shoulder, making a new deep mark as he groaned through his own orgasm, filling Hanzo even more. He faintly heard Hanzo let out another strangled sound over the rushing of blood in his ears as he came, every sensation intensified by Hanzo's body writhing against him and tensing around him and all the lovely sounds he was making. Reaper felt victorious, high off his orgasm and feeling powerful. Even though Hanzo was still shaking, he dispersed into black smoke as soon as his orgasm ended, surrounding him in a warm, dark cloud.

 

Without Reaper’s sturdy body to hold him up, Hanzo fell forward. He collapsed over his lap, trembling and still crying with the intensity of what he had just experienced. His cuts were all bleeding again, his throat was sore, his heart was racing, he still felt hot all over. It wasn't until his breathing evened out that Reaper reformed in front of him, crouching down and lifting Hanzo's head with a hand under his chin, claws lightly pressing against him again. Hanzo looked up slowly, skin still flushed red and eyes barely open.

 

“You did very well, so I'll let you live. If any of your teammates survived our ambush, I’m sure they'll come looking for you soon.”

 

Reaper was back to his cold, amused tone, as if he hadn't just fucked his enemy to the point of wrecking them both. He rolled his shoulders and left a parting scratch across Hanzo’s mouth, licking the blood away with an unusually long tongue before pulling his mask back into place and standing up to walk away. Hanzo tried to call out for him to untie him the rest of the way, unable to undo the ropes holding his legs down even though his hands were free now. Reaper didn't respond to his broken voice and half-formed sentence, walking away without a backwards glance before disappearing through the far door.

 

Hanzo fell forward again, laying across his bleeding thighs despite the pain it caused, feeling sore all over and incredibly drained. He let out another sob when he felt Reaper’s spend dripping out of him, but this time it was ashamed and pained. He already hated what happened, regretting that he allowed it and hoping he could forget it soon. The marks would show for weeks once he was found, and the scars would last for years after.

 

He desperately hoped he would never have to see Reaper ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't ask me what inspired this, I have no idea.
> 
> Feel free to come yell at me about it @nate-xander on tumblr


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